Chapter 2

Charlie kicked down the door to Susan's flat, having lost patience with Tunlaw's fumbling and struggling with the keys that clearly didn't work.

"Dear goodness me!" exclaimed the elderly landlord as he peeked inside. Charlie just stared open mouthed, silently agreeing with Tunlaw's assessment of the situation.

The place was trashed. Not just tables overturned and loose papers everywhere, but trashed as if someone had taken a sledgehammer and demolished every last thing they could find. Walls, tables, chairs—nothing was spared. Pieces of drywall were deposited in heaps and piles all over the floor, the rest in a fine dust coating the place in a messy, sheer white blanket.

"What happened here?" asked Tunlaw.

"How could no one notice this?" asked Charlie. He turned back to Tunlaw with a stern look.

"Oh, don't look at me," answered the landlord in a defensive tone. "I certainly haven't got any ideas."

"Who was the last person to visit her?"

"You were, three days ago."

"Clearly, I wasn't," Charlie snapped. "Did you hear anything when this happened? Nobody could pull this off without making a racket."

"Nothing, Charles."

Charlie turned around in a huff. "Useless," he growled to himself under his breath. "Call the cops."

"I already told you I tried earlier but—"

"TRY AGAIN!"

Tunlaw scurried away in a fright, like a weasel from a rabid dog.

Charlie began walking around the apartment. If it was a robbery, they certainly didn't take anything valuable, as all the artifacts Susan collected on various trips were left behind. He made his way to the bedroom, opened the jewelry box and found, to his surprise, that all the jewelry he bought her was still there: the cheap diamond necklace he'd sacrificed five paychecks to buy, a couple of gold armbands she received from an archaeological dig in Egypt, a jade necklace given to her as a gift from a Mongol nomad, and…something he hadn't seen before.

"What's this?" Charlie closed the jewelry box, noticing two rings lying beside it. One was a bright yellow, and the other a murky green. He certainly didn't notice them a few minutes ago, when he walked into the room. As far as he knew, they suddenly appeared there without him noticing. "But how…?"

"Pretty rings, aren't they?" said a voice. Charlie whipped around and faced its source, looking down the barrel of his sidearm. To his shock, he found that the voice didn't come from a person, rather it came from an enormous cat, likely a leopard or a jaguar. And it just sat there on the bed, not doing anything, so Charlie simply held the gun and didn't shoot. He was frozen with fear, doubting his own sanity. "I must be losing it…" he muttered.

"No," said the cat, "you're perfectly sane." Her voice was feminine, delicate and regal, and carried a slight echo with it. It was magical, but not enchanting.

"I don't believe you," said Charlie.

"Then don't," the cat replied. Indifference and apathy dripped from her voice. "But if you want to see lovely Susan again, you're going to need my help." She began to lick her paw, grooming the spotted fur and looking quite content.

"A talking leopard," said Charlie, "is offering to help me find my missing girlfriend."

"Jaguar," she corrected.

"Whatever. Do you know anything about what happened here?"

"I know everything that happened here."

"Well?" said Charlie expectantly. "Tell me!"

The Jaguar paused in her grooming, her green slit eyes looking up at him, measuring him. "Did she ever mention a place called Narnia?"

...Narnia. That word brought back memories. "Yeah…Narnia was a game she used to play with her siblings."

"The short version," the Jaguar explained, "is that Susan was dragged to Hell."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You can't. You want proof?" she challenged. "Pick up the yellow ring."

Charlie thought for a moment, keeping his gun on the Jaguar. She was clearly intelligent, and if she wanted him dead she would've killed him already without revealing her intelligence. And because she was intelligent, she must have some purpose in talking to him.

If nothing else, Charlie reasoned the Jaguar's connection to Susan's disappearance could help him find her.

"Well?" said the Jaguar impatiently.

Charlie slowly made his way towards the nightstand, keeping his sidearm aimed between her eyes. He glanced down briefly at the nightstand and grabbed the yellow ring.

But as soon as he touched it, the world melted away. Nothing but blue remained, with rays of sunlight penetrating the murkiness. He was falling upward, like he was swimming towards the surface of a pool, but he wasn't moving and he could still breathe. Rather suddenly, he broke the surface of a small pond, and overcoming his shock, he crawled onto a lush and green forest floor.

Charlie looked up as a sense of calm washed over him. He stood up slowly, noting the huge trunks of the trees around him, reaching up as their leaves blocked any and all sunlight. Instead the place was somehow bathed in an otherworldly green light. A shallow pool of water, identical to the one he just crawled out of, dotted the landscape every few meters. It was, though strange, quite beautiful.

And there was a lion up ahead, staring at him with glowing yellow eyes. "You must be Aslan," called Charlie.

"Yes," he responded. His voice, like the Jaguar's, carried with it an echo, but unlike the Jaguar's, it carried something more, something that commanded the attention of all, wicked or wise. Or both. Aslan walked forward.

Charlie had seen lions before in zoos and in picture books, but this Aslan was unlike any he had encountered. He was majestic, as most lions were, but also terrifying, benevolent, beautiful, and ugly all at once. He commanded a sense of intelligence, the kind of wisdom that held secrets so terrible that only the immortal was capable of holding while keeping his sanity intact. But within such wisdom, there was also infinite kindness, and Charlie knew that when Aslan searched and sifted through the souls of mortal men, he searched only for the goodness within.

Aslan stopped a few feet from him. He was giant, his head coming up to Charlie's shoulder. "Walk with me," he commanded. Aslan led the way through the forest, and Charlie followed.

"This is Wood Between the Worlds," explained Aslan. He stopped by one of the shallow pools of water and looked into it. "Each of these is a portal to another realm," he explained. "Not the planets and stars you see from your front porch, mind you; an entirely different realm altogether, all of which are attached to the Wood."

"A multiverse," said Charlie.

"Indeed."

"I feel like I could stay here forever," said Charlie. "Why'd I come here again?" His memory was rapidly failing him. To find…someone. Who was it again? Sally? Sara? No, those didn't sound right. He was on the verge of letting it go when it suddenly came back to him, his memory held afloat by an outside force.

"Susan!" he cried.

"The Wood makes remembering difficult," said Aslan. "Here, there is no purpose, and its passive nature infects all who enter."

Charlie shook his head. Suddenly, his mind was clear, his heart racing. "The Jaguar told me to come here," he recalled. "Can you help me?"

Aslan stopped by another pool, this one dried up long ago. "I can help you, yes," he answered. "But it will be Azaroth who guides you."

"Then what the hell will you do?"

"Get you started on the path to your loved one."

"And where might that path lead?" Charlie asked, letting an edge creep into his voice. Because Aslan (presumably) held up his memory and cancelled out the Wood's magic, Charlie had enough of a clear head to be impatient, and he wanted answers. He found himself rather all at once sick of the Lion's talking—about the Wood, of the worlds it led to, and of Aslan's laid back demeanor, as if he really didn't care what happened to Susan one way or another. Charlie just wanted Susan back, something he planned to do with or without any help.

Aslan breathed in and let out a heavy sigh, and the Wood melted away. In its place, there was a grassy field in an unknown mountain range. Again, Charlie felt a sense of bliss replace his urgency, but Aslan quickly canceled it out and held his wits afloat as before.

"This is my Country," the lion explained, "where the righteous arrive after their own time has ended in their own realm. The wicked are taken to the Nightmare, where Susan is being held."

Instantly, the surroundings were replaced by the Wood, and the two were back by the dried-up pool.

"Susan was dragged into Hell," said Charlie.

"Yes," affirmed Aslan, "but not by my doing. It was the demon Tash, my opposite, my enemy."

"Why?" asked Charlie. "What does Susan have that this what's-his-face would want?"

Aslan made a rumbling sound, as if in contemplation, and thought for a moment. "Life is full of uncertainties," he eventually answered. "When your adventure is over, you will either accept that it happened and move on, or wonder till it drives you mad."

Charlie took the Lion's answer as a warning that he wasn't meant to know for certain. "So, what have you got to lose in all this?"

Aslan stomped his front paw on the ground, and clawed at the soil. "Tash overstepped," he said angrily. "Whether she believes it or not, Susan was once the High Queen of Narnia, a realm which is no more, and had dealt with me personally. She fought with me and for me."

Charlie, sensing the Lion's growing anger, switched the subject. "Okay, so you're pissed. Good; so am I. Now that we're on the same page, how do we get Susan out of the Nightmare?"

Aslan walked forward and touched his nose to the dry dirt at the bottom of the pool. Instantly, it filled with water, sparkling in the emerald light of the Wood. "This was once the realm of Charn," he said. "It also is no more, but I have repurposed the void it once occupied. Enter this new realm, and you shall find an agent of mine who has walked the streets of the Nightmare. He will prepare you, train you."

"But that'd waste valuable time!" protested Charlie. "Susan's in the Nightmare suffering untold tortures, and you want me to take my sweet time to prepare?"

"Do you think so little of me, boy?" growled Aslan. Charlie recoiled at the Lion's sudden anger. "This new realm exists beyond time as it is known in other worlds. None will pass in comparison to the Nightmare, and so none is wasted. Now go, enter this realm. Azaroth and my agent await."

Aslan whipped his head towards the pool, and Charlie felt an invisible force shove him in as he cried out in surprise. Again, he was falling, swimming but not moving, submerged but still breathing, until the water around him faded and ground revealed itself beneath his feet and Charlie fell on his ass from the unexpected landing. He got up and dusted himself off, but stopped, for ahead of him stood a large grey rat, standing upright.

The Rat smiled, his fangs showing in excitement. "Well, you must be Charles then, eh?" he greeted jovially. "Aslan said you'd be coming."

Charlie just stared.

"At a loss then, are ye?" The Rat let out a hearty laugh. He then bowed as a gentlemanly duelist would, humble but dangerous. "Sir Reepicheep, at your service."

It was twilight on the streets of London. The streetlamps were just beginning to glow as the sun set behind the concrete horizon. The autumn air whipped at the late-night stragglers, as drunks stumbled out of pubs, exchanging insults with the patrons still inside, factory workers briskly fled along the sidewalks, eager to be home after a long day's work, and a few children stretching out the day as long as they could, at least until the local patrolmen forced them to start making their way home, exchanging jeers and mean looks with each other.

Susan moved closer to Charlie as they walked down the street. "It's cold," she noted.

"Bah," spat Charlie. "This ain't nothing. Ever been on the streets of Michigan in the winter?"

"No. That where you're from?"

"Yes, and I can tell you that December in Detroit is hell frozen over."

Susan laughed. "If it was so cold, why didn't you spend more time inside?"

"Inside?" said Charlie. "Believe me, I would've loved to. Except I had no home."

"You were homeless?" Susan was horribly embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, "I—I didn't know…"

"Hehe! Look at your face, it's so dang red!" Charlie laughed, as if it were no big deal. "Don't be sorry—I wasn't actually homeless. Mom died when I was eight, but Father Pierre, the priest of an old French Catholic church took me in and raised me."

"In an orphanage?" Susan asked.

"Nope," he answered. "There really weren't any orphanages. I just slept in the Church basement at night, and during the day, Father Pierre and the nuns would homeschool me." He turned to her and asked, "what about you? You don't seem to talk much about your family."

"Oh…" Susan slowed down and stopped. Charlie turned around to see her trembling and her face harboring a painful expression.

"Forget it," he said quickly, "you don't have to answer." Breathing a sigh of relief, Susan recovered and they walked on.

"So…what did you do for fun?" Susan asked, trying to reignite the conversation. It was a stupid question, but it was better than walking in silence.

"As a kid?" Charlie thought for a moment. "There wasn't much time for fun. If Father Pierre or the nuns weren't tutoring me, they'd have me doing chores." His voice switched to a high pitched mocking tone, as a child would make fun of his mother. "Idle hands bring the Devil," he crowed.

Susan laughed. "Is that what the nuns would say?"

"Yup," said Charlie. "Sister Linda's mantra. But I still found ways to screw around."

"Such as?"

"Well...when I wasn't being tutored or doing chores, I was usually on the streets." Charlie laughed lightly, nostalgia taking over his memory. "I got into more fights than I care to admit, and I might've conned a worker or two. Sometimes, I'd play pranks on the nuns." A wicked smile overcame his features. "One time, I poured out ice-cold water on their chairs before they sat down for their afternoon prayers."

Susan looked aghast, mouth open in shock. "You did not," she exclaimed. "That's horrible!"

But Charlie just continued to smile, apparently proud of himself. "Yeah? Well, you should've been there when the sat down. I swear they jumped at least five feet in the air."

Susan laughed. "Did they ever catch you?"

"Are you kidding? I got my ass kicked," he said. "Sister Selma beat me with a yardstick, and she always hit hard. Then Father Pierre said I'd be doing chores for the nuns until they were satisfied I learned a lesson."

"That sounds awful," said Susan.

"Worth it," said Charlie, but he quietly added, "just barely, though. Angry nuns don't give out the easy chores, and there were seven of them constantly hovering, just waiting for an excuse to smack me."

Susan laughed again as she took his arm in hers, and they walked on.

A/N: If you're wondering why I picked a jaguar, it's because Aslan is a lion, so I figured another deity should also be represented by a big cat, but not a lion, because lion is king and is symbolic of Aslan's authority. Two lions would throw this symbolism out the window, and jaguars are my favorite of the big cats anyway.